


Duel Enucleation

by merryfortune



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Blood Kink, Bondage, Boot Worship, Cannibalism, Corruption Arc, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Fingering, Gore, Out of Character, Prisoner of War, Self-Harm, War Crimes, title is not a typo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28399749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Eirika takes a rather... willing prisoner of war after the skirmish in Jehanna. Now it was just a matter of acclimatising him to the morale of the Renais Army.
Relationships: Eirika/Valter (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21





	Duel Enucleation

“Moonstone, is that what they call you?” Eirika asked.

He smiled haphazardly, revealing sharp teeth which were more grey or yellow than white. “Used to call me. I am no longer a General of Grado but if you like the moniker, I have no issue with you using it to call me. I like how it sounds in your mouth.” Valter replied.

Eirika mulled over the response. Valter was still for her, on his knees, hands and wrists in heavy link chain cuffs. She nodded.

“I do like how it sounds. Its pretty.” Eirika agreed.

She looked over the dishevelled state of her prisoner. At his full height, shoulders back, he was a giant among men. And yet, on his knees, before her, he looked so tiny. His long hair in tangled, jagged waves and his eyes shining in the dark, like an opportunistic animal more so than a prisoner of war about to be schooled. Eirika came to her conclusion.

“Valter will suffice.” Eirika told him.

“I like how my true name sounds in your mouth as well.” Valter offered. He licked his dry, cracked lips.

Eirika smiled.

Valter was a grotesque man but she wondered just how repulsive he could be. She felt a peculiar curiosity flicker inside of her chest.

“After all, you no longer are of Grado, you’re a turn tail. No need to use their titles if your own dog now.” Eirika continued. “So, Valter, I need assurance that you won’t betray us. You are a man of little, if any, loyalty.”

“I could lick your boots if that so pleased you.” Valter told her.

Eirika chuckled she was bemused by the idea, but she indulged the suggestion. Just on the interim until she could come with something more substantial. She reared back and lifted her foot to him. Her boot was of luxuriant leather with velour decals, coming up with creases and folds over her knee. She toyed with them as she thrust her heel to Valter’s face, not caring if he was struck or not. He flinched neither way. And Eirika put her foot down for him to clamber over.

He leaned hard over himself, over his shackles, to get to her. Valter licked at Eirika’s boot with great exuberance. Over and over, with fantastic relish Valter did lick. Eirika watched and she felt unusual about it. Like she was an observer more so than a participant; barely wet but the hairs on her arm had raised. She could feel arousal emanate off Valter as he suckled at the toe of her boot. Eirika hoped that it tasted like gourmet quality veal as he certainly acted like it did, rather than like dirt and sand from where she had traipsed through the desert to what was supposed to have been their death match.

Instead, she had taken him as a prisoner because her blood had boiled, and it wasn’t because of the harsh sun above. But because of what he had said to her. The impudence and disgust. She was reviled but also intrigued and for good reason if this was how he was going to treat her now that she had tamed him rather than the other way around like how he had planned and proclaimed.

“Be done with you now.” Eirika said and she gave a kick, she had had enough of this farce of loyalty, she needed something better to know that she had a true stake in this man’s heart or equivalent.

Valter breathed heavily as he drew up off the floor, grunting and groaning. Injuries that he barely acknowledged as having began to open and Eirika could see it darken in his clothes. Those wounds caught Eirika’s eyes easier than the erection in his lap. She found the blood less sickening.

“Like what you see?” Valter asked. “I have eyes only for you, I promise, my lady.” His expression was lit up by this gaunt lunacy that attracted Eirika to him.

Eirika’s heart skipped a beat. Perfect. “I think I found a suitable way for you to pledge your loyalty to me.”

“Oh? Do tell, my dear, please.” Valter all but begged of her.

“Eyes wander.” Eirika informed him. “So, I will be taking one of them. You’ll need at least one to remain useful to us after all or else.”

Valter swooned with burning curiosity, a guttural purr from the bottom of his mouth. “What did you have in mind.”

“I want you to gouge out your own eye and give it to me. Whichever one you can bear to part with.” Eirika said and then, with a sour flirtation, she added, “I think you would be handsome if you wore an eyepatch.”

“Your wish is my command, princess. Self-enucleation it is if that is your greatest pleasure, then it is mine as well.” Valter replied, sultry and his eyes heavy lidded.

Eirika keened to hear such words. Her shoulders lifted, she all but bounced on her heel as she looked down at Valter with a shine to her eyes in the dim light of the makeshift prisoner tent that she and her army had pitched on the outskirts of Jehanna. She looked gorgeous, dripping with hate and revulsion and something else too. Something like lust but not quite for it was borne of all the wrong and worst emotions.

“That is perfect to hear, Valter.” Eirika praised him. “And I have the perfect instrument for you to undergo such an act of devotion to me.”

Valter was far too eager to hear that. He watched carefully what Eirika did next.

She drew forth her rapier from the scabbard on her hip, crimson and gold. She held its cushioned hilt with grace and delicacy that was languid like water. She sighed with relish as the steel of the blade glinted, silver like moonlight, as she toyed with the end. She pricked her finger, but she minded not how she bled so little but so, so bright. Valter was transfixed.

“I hope you are not having grand ideas right now, Valter,” Eirika said and the blade loosened left as she held it, it came down to a plank, “ideas of holding my darling rapier by the hilt, oh no, you are far too gone as a traitor and cur to have such luxuries, I do hope you understand.”

“Oh, I understand completely.” Valter replied, frothing at the mouth.

Eirika smiled a smile which was both wicked and innocent. “Wonderful.”

Valter reached up to her rapier as though he were reaching up for salvation. He supposed he was. He had been a godless dog before being allowed to drink in the splendour of Crown Princess and tactician of Renais. He clutched at Eirika’s rapier, at the tip, cutting himself on it, not caring for how his skin and flesh, tough and coarse, was shredded on its sharp edge.

Eirika held the blade steady and her skin prickled. She recalled how not too long ago, she was deemed too virginal to take any sacrament of blood, unlike the menfolk of the army, but this scourge of a man saw the killer in her where others failed. She liked that. She liked how he was so dauntless as he was as he put the blade to his eye.

It began to bulge, and he swallowed a grunt of pain. His left eye closed whilst he kept the other open in sheer determination. Eirika watched with muted glee as the white of his eye turned so shiny with liquid tears and some other fluid, too. Not blood, it was clear with a whitish streak to it.

“Harder, my princess…” Valter murmured.

Eirika’s heart jumped to her throat. She nodded, unable to speak, paralysed with the addictive poison of cruelty. She thrust forward her rapier and Valter screamed. The edge of the blade pierced the first layer of his eyeball and they peeled back as Valter fought instinctively against the initial thrust that had wounded him. He held onto the rapier tighter, harder, and rode out the motion, guiding it through the attachments that kept his eye in his socket.

Valter clamoured, mouth shut but strained, to dig the blade further into his eye socket.

There was a spurt of blood to accompany what already dripped from his tear ducts. Eirika didn’t even so much as flinch at the spray, even though it painted her with a putrid splatter of scarlet. She had endured worse and so, she hardened herself through it. Eliciting an unusual pleasure at watching Valter mutilate himself for her sake. To prove himself worthy of her.

“Further, General.” Eirika urged him.

Valter nodded. Enthusiastic and eager. He clawed at the rapier, edging it deeper into his eye to sever the lingering attachments and optical cords. They were of the softest and most delicate silk and yet, he raged against them when a prick would so much as destroy them. He grinned, madly, like a lunatic, at the pain that he was inflicting against himself with the blade.

Finally, with another spurt of blood, Valter freed his eyeball from the socket. His right hand was shaky as he grabbed his eyeball, ripping it from that final thread and he held it up to her, like an offering. The right side of his face dripped with blood and Eirika, like a selfish child, pulled back her rapier. She sheathed it as it was. Letting it suffocate with the fresh, wet blood. She found herself enamoured with Valter’s face.

He looked more natural when he dripped from all but every orifice with blood. She crouched down, came to her knees, her boots squeaking, and she caressed his face. He sighed, swooned, into her gentle touch as she stroked him. She thumbed over the sharp edges of his harsh cheek and inched up to the socket itself. She was mystified by the inner workings of what she saw. The hollowed-out eye socket and she touched him there.

She fingered him, swiping away the blood and she drew back. She licked it off her fingers. It was nasty. Valter’s blood was bitter and metallic, mixed with something else too, the fluid of its eye that had leaked out of it when he had liberated it from his face. It was disgusting and yet, Eirika leaned in. Still touching the hollowed-out socket, finding herself riveted from the bloody chunks of the wound, and she kissed him.

First, adjacent to his lips and he tried to kiss back, on her mouth, but Eirika moved on first. She was swift where he was languid. She kissed up the edge of his cheek before licking at the wound. She hated the taste of his foul blood and yet, she kissed and licked at his wound. Not cleansing it but because she was hungry for something that the other minnows around her, to use the language of Valter, could never give her.

Valter moaned as Eirika kissed him. She took his hand and held it. Leather glove against leather glove, her fingers trailing on the heavy cuffs, both wood and iron, on his wrists as she kissed him as hard as she could over what remained of his eye socket. Not caring for how she became painted with his blood as though she, a deer, had just eaten from the mountain lion’s carcass.

Eirika, eventually, pulled back and there was a different look in her eyes. Wizened, matured, heinous with desecrated purity. But it was sparkling, like the true loneliness of the distant moon.

“I believe you.” Eirika said. “That you’ll never desert my field or battalion so long as I am your Princess.”

His cuffs rattled, “Thank you, dearest, but please, I want you to have this. An assurance like no other, yes?” He awkwardly turned over his hand and revealed his severed eye.

It was putrid Leaking and bleeding. But Eirika took it as though it were no more than the neat or immaculate eye of a doll. She took it from him, though, and she was careful not to wound it further than it already had been.

“What should I do with it?” Eirika asked, blinking.

“Whatever you wish, I just wish that you would keep it as an inseparable part of you.” Valter replied, a touch sultry.

Valter, despite his moniker, Eirika thought, wasn’t exactly made of moonstone. She could turn his eye into jewellery to wear on her neck or even her finger, so she tried something else. She cupped the rim of her hand against her mouth, blood smearing on it but she could hardly tell encased in her glove, but she tipped her hand upwards.

Valter’s sole eye bulge and he made a strangled, excited noise. Eirika swallowed his eyeball. She ate it one, hard go and she could feel it in the pit of her stomach after that less than curt gulp. She tried to think of delicacies akin, but they all seemed less grotesque now. The little girl retching at the prospect of eating fisheyes had become a woman who willingly ate a human eye.

“I take it that suffices?” Eirika asked.

“Most definitely, my Princess.” Valter adoringly replied to her.

“Excellent.” Eirika said and she got up to leave.

Valter made no struggle to beg for release from his bondage. If this was how she played, then by all means play on, he thought. She stood in the entry way of the tent and twisted around, just slightly.

“I have to clean my rapier now,” Eirika said, “and when I come back, I’ll give you some scraps to eat and clean your wounds properly, I promise.”

“I shall hold it to you, my darling.” Valter replied, his voice low and snaking.

A shiver went down Eirika’s spine. Darling. She disliked that but she attempted to her best to save face. Eirika nodded at him, her eyes lingering too long on that burgundy wound in the side of his face and she wondered, as she left, if he was a villain, then what did that make her, his mistress?

**Works inspired by this one:**

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